


Worth Every Galleon

by NuclearNik



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Dates, Fluff and Smut, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:28:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24549157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuclearNik/pseuds/NuclearNik
Summary: At a charity event, Pansy wins a date with the wizarding world's golden boy. Things don't quite go according to plan.
Relationships: Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter
Comments: 25
Kudos: 134
Collections: Talk Isn't Cheap Fest





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Talk_Isnt_Cheap](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Talk_Isnt_Cheap) collection. 



> After an extended leave that I did not approve, my muse is back! The words flowed for the first time in ages, and I may have gotten a wee bit carried away. Many thanks to darkangelofsorrowreturns for hosting this fest and allowing me to go a bit over on the word limit with this first part <3
> 
> Un-beta'd.

The clinking of delicate silverware and the drone of insipid small talk grew louder until Pansy felt like her brain was vibrating in her skull.

_Should have stayed home._

Yes, the charity auction was one part of her plan to pull her family's name out of the mud; good publicity was everything, after all.

But did that mean she had to subject herself to the world's most boring wizard sat next to her? He kept leaning in as if sharing a secret with her, and his breath was atrocious. He was also getting a little too touchy until she was just a single "accidental" brush away from hexing him stupid.

Changing tables this far into the evening would be rude. As much as she wished she were anywhere but here, she pulled herself together and stared down the infuriating man beside her, perfecting her iciest stare. She didn't earn the moniker "Ice Queen" in school for nothing. He withered under her scrutiny, and she turned her attention to the stage where the curtains rippled to reveal a stout woman with an unflattering perm. She addressed the crowd, explaining how the event would work.

It was fairly simple, really, and Pansy thought the older witch yammered on far too long about it.

One by one, single wizards would strut down the stage and participants would bid for the privilege of a date with each bachelor. The proceeds went to several charities that worked closely with the Ministry as magical Britain slowly but surely rebuilt after the war.

In short, the causes were good, it would be a positive reflection on the family name, and—despite her horrendous tablemate—Pansy certainly didn't mind the opportunity to ogle a few fit wizards. 

When Hermione Granger put up her hand for Draco, Pansy smirked to herself, unsurprised. The two had been dancing around each other for ages; maybe now they would stop faffing about and get together already.

Another bachelor emerged from the curtains, and the room took a collective gasp of awe. Everyone but Pansy, that is.

The celebrity status that Harry Potter had risen to after the war was ridiculous, if you asked her. He was simply a wizard that happened to be in the right places at the right times.

He was not a fan of his fame, she knew, and she recalled a particular issue of the Daily Prophet with his angry face dancing across the front page as he'd grabbed one of the cameras flashing in his face and ripped it apart.

With his bare hands.

That little show of strength had gotten her thinking about all the other interesting things he could do with his hands, and she found herself picturing it now as she watched him reluctantly traverse the catwalk, applause and wolf-whistles erupting through the ballroom. 

The slight flush covering his cheeks and the bridge of his nose at the attention was rather endearing, and she realised as she'd been sitting there waiting for a proper bachelor to bid on, she'd spent the whole time waffling; Potter was her only choice now.

It took five minutes and an obscene amount of money, but she managed to land the number one catch of the night. He was high profile and any association with him could raise her standing. She needed all the good press she could get; that sort of thing was required when one was attempting to make the world a better place. As a defence attorney, she had the opportunity to help witches and wizards that didn't have the same kind of privilege afforded to her since birth. Yes, it was a stark difference from the child she'd used to be, but people changed. Grew. Learned.

And besides, she owed the poor bloke for the atrocious actions of her youth. She'd take him to a fancy restaurant, they'd eat and drink wine and make small talk, and then she'd be on her way. 

It would be easy.

* * *

_Sweet Circe, this was a mistake._

Pansy Parkinson did not hike, under any circumstances. Ske kept fit, but she really wasn't much a fan of the great outdoors and opted to avoid them whenever possible.

Yet here she was, picking her way up a hillside shrouded in darkness in her expensive shoes, mentally berating herself as she watched the delightfully tight backside of Wizarding Britain's Most Eligible Bachelor striding up the hill ahead of her in the light from her wand.

This was _her_ date. She'd purchased it fair and square, yet somehow he had finagled his way into taking the reins, and now they were somewhere in the English countryside she'd never been, and he was chattering on about the history of the area as she tried to keep her stiletto heels from digging into the earth with each step. As she followed behind him, intricate plots of how she might orchestrate his demise filled her head, each one more satisfying than the next.

Just before they reached the top, Pansy cried out as the heel holding up her left foot broke suddenly. Potter reacted immediately, backtracking a few steps and scooping her into his arms.

"Excuse me, I do _not_ need your help, thank you very much."

"I know you don't. Just let me be a gentleman here."

Pursing her lips, she gave a resigned sigh and let him carry her, though she stayed rigid in his arms, determined to keep herself from melting into him.

Her face was close to his neck, and with a particularly deep inhale, she was suddenly overwhelmed by how delectable he smelled. Leaning forward without realizing she was moving, she brushed the tip of her nose against his skin, jolting back into her stiff position and crossing her arms when his chest rumbled on a dark laugh.

Reaching the top, he set her on the grass and pulled a picnic blanket out of thin air, settling it over the ground before sinking to his knees and patting the spot across from him.

"Have a seat, love." She bristled at his audacity to order her around and took her sweet time unbuckling her shoes and setting them carefully to the side before folding her legs beneath her, letting her skirt ride up just enough to catch his eye and hopefully make him burn for her the way she was burning for him: strong and without permission.

Watching as he spread out a meal and set bluebell flames to glowing in a small jar, Pansy laughed when his stomach growled. Loudly.

"Hungry?" she said, a slow smirk tugging at her lips.

Glancing up from what he was doing, he locked eyes with her, and the fire she saw in them ought to be illegal. "Very." As he spoke, he let his gaze wander over her body, making it very clear that dinner was not the only thing he was hungry for.

They spent their meal watching the stars, and Pansy learned more about Harry Potter in thirty minutes than she had through seven years of attending the same school.

He was sharp. He loved kids and hated mint chip ice cream. He was compassionate and stubborn and devastatingly handsome, and when he leaned across the blanket and pressed his mouth to hers, she didn't want to pull away.

It was not a kiss of tenderness and affection, or anything of the sort. It was hard and frantic as they collided, no finesse to be found. Just unrestrained passion; their teeth even knocked together in their haste. 

Potter's hands on either side of her face held her right where he wanted her, tilting her head to just the right angle to receive his kiss.

His fingertips burned like fire on her skin: she couldn't get close enough, deep enough. 

She needed more.

As if he'd read her mind, he stood, pulling her with him, then snaking an arm around her back and the other under her bum, urging her legs up to wrap around his waist as he stepped forward, pressing her back against a tree.

The rough bark bit through the flimsy material of her blouse, and it only drove her desire higher.

"Are you satisfied with your purchase?" He whispered the words against the column of her throat, his tongue darting out to taste her.

She feigned uncertainty, shrugging as if she were undecided. 

"Well, you get what you pay for, sweetheart."

"To hell with that. I want a refund," she said playfully, though it was difficult to speak clearly when he was tormenting that tender spot under her jaw that drove her crazy.

He pulled back to look at her, a wide grin on his face.

"Final sale, I'm afraid." 

"What a shame—" The last syllable turned into a moan as he rucked up her skirt and cupped her heat in his palm.

"Already so wet for me."

"Maybe I just really love to hike."


	2. Part 2

"Already so wet for me."

"Maybe I just really love to hike."

Harry barked out a laugh into her hair, hand sliding up her neck to tangle in the short strands and tugging, baring her throat to him. Trailing his mouth down, he sucked little love bruises on her skin at the same time he slipped his fingers into her, thumb rubbing firm circles over her most sensitive nerves.

 _Gods_ , _it's been too long._

Her sexual drought was not self-imposed; she had simply been far too busy to worry about such things.

Until now.

The evening was nowhere near where she'd imagined it might go, but she found she wasn't all that upset about the change in direction.

Gain some good publicity and get laid. What more could a witch want?

Shifting her a bit higher in his hold, he brushed open-mouthed kisses across her chest, then pulled her nipple into his mouth and sucked.

Hard and perfect and just how she liked it.

She very nearly keened like a lovestruck ninny from the sensation as he switched sides, leaving damp little circles on her blouse. He gently blew on the wet spots, and her skin pebbled immediately, chill bumps skittering down her arms.

Did he suddenly sprout extra limbs? It felt like he was touching her everywhere all at once, her every sense on overload.

When she started to clench around his fingers, senses overwhelmed by his thorough attention, he slipped his fingers free just before she reached her peak, using one hand to undo his belt buckle and the button of his trousers. Any annoyance she had from him winding her up and then backing off disappeared as she felt him position himself at her centre, catching the gusset of her knickers with one finger and tugging it aside. Before they could go further, he used his hand in her hair to draw her eyes back to his.

"Okay?" As he spoke, he brushed his thumb over her cheekbone tenderly, and it was very sweet, despite the fact that she wanted the opposite of tender and sweet at that moment. 

Nodding as enthusiastically as she could while still trying for somewhat aloof, she slid her arms up over his shoulders to twine her fingers together behind his neck, playing with the wild curls at his nape.

A breath passed between them, and then he was sliding into her, filling her so completely she could barely breathe. Her head thunked back against the tree trunk, and when she opened her eyes, she could see a blanket of stars peeking through the foliage, and it felt as if in that moment they were connected to not just each other, but the entire universe. Like they were galaxies to be found in his eyes. 

_Steady on, Parkinson._

This moony-eyed, poetic prose was very unlike her, but she couldn't bring herself to care very much, not when it felt so good, so _right_ , to be with him like this.

"Fuck."

"That's a dirty mouth for such a pretty girl."

"Oh, you have no—" Her pithy reply disappeared into his mouth as he slanted his lips over hers and his hips sped up, drawing increasingly desperate sounds from her throat. Fingers digging into his curls, she gave as good as she got, circling her hips in rhythm with his thrusts, but it wasn't enough, so she shoved at his shoulders. His gaze flew up to hers, concern in his eyes like he thought he'd hurt her.

"Let me down."

His face fell, but he backed off immediately, letting her slide down his body until her feet met the ground and grabbing the waistband of his trousers so they didn't slip down to his ankles.

Before the mood deteriorated any further, she placed her palm in the middle of his chest and gently guided him backwards to the blanket with her best predator smile.

One dark eyebrow lifted in curiosity as he let himself be manhandled to the ground, a pleased grin spreading over his face as she reached under her skirt to pull her knickers off and straddled his hips.

"My turn," she whispered as she slowly pulled up her skirt and settled over his lap, pressing down and rubbing her dripping centre against his straining cock, relishing in the grunt she pulled from him before she lifted up on her knees. Wrapping her fingers around him, she guided him in and sank down, twin sighs escaping them. 

Before she had the chance to move further, his hands locked onto her hips, easing some of the strain on her thighs. She let herself lean back, hands braced on his legs and her head thrown back as he lifted her up and down, nearly pulling all the way out before sliding deep again and again.

Increasing tension pooled low in her belly, and it felt fucking fantastic, but she wanted to see him, so she braced her hands on the ground above his shoulders and leant down to kiss him, her tongue sweeping across his plump lower lip, aching to tangle with his.

A firm hand on the back of her neck held her close, and he surged up, devouring her mouth while keeping one hand on her hip, guiding her movements.

If she pushed down as he pushed up, it made him hit that perfect spot inside her that made her vision spotty. They sped up, each chasing that high, and for a moment, the only sound echoing in the quiet night was the rather obscene symphony of their coupling. 

She slipped her hand down where they were joined, marvelling at how thoroughly they were connected before sliding it up to brush her fingers back and forth across her clit. When Harry thrust up into her one more time, firm and deep, she hit the edge and fell over, pleasure melting over her entire body like liquid light.

In the aftermath, punctuated by heaving breaths and the straightening of clothes, she collapsed on top of him.

Merlin, she hadn’t even taken her top off, so desperate were they for each other.

Slowly, she came back to earth, focusing on the steady rise and fall of his chest as his breathing evened out, warmth building beneath her breastbone when he used gentle fingers to tuck a stray piece of damp hair behind her ear.

Pushing up from his body, she swung her leg over and stood, spotting her knickers lying in the dirt where she’d left them, her nose scrunching up in distaste as she picked them up and cast a handy dandy cleansing spell. When she finally focused back on Harry, she found him standing with his shoulder propped against the very tree they’d used for more licentious purposes earlier.

He had a peculiar expression on his face; contentment, sure, but also something soft, sweet, and not entirely unwelcome.

Was that all it took? One good shag and suddenly she was having all the warm and fuzzies when it came to the handsome wizard before her? Shaking herself free from the thought, she ran a hand through her messy hair and tugged down the hem of her skirt as he packed up all their supplies and made them disappear. 

She heard movement, and then he was kneeling at her feet, tapping his fingers against her left ankle to get her to rest her foot on his knee, her broken shoe now mended and in his hands.

With one hand braced on his shoulder, she peered curiously at him, more than a little endeared to him as he helped her slide her foot into the strappy shoes, carefully securing the delicate buckles.

“You’re something else, Harry Potter.”

A smirk twisting his lips, he stood to his full height, so close she had to tilt her neck back to see him. “Is that a compliment?”

With a haughty sniff, she replied, “I haven’t decided yet.”

His ensuing laugh made her spine tingle, and she knew it was time to get the hell off that hill before she did something ridiculous like ask him for a second date.

“Shall we?”

She was more careful where she stepped this time, and they made it down with no incidents. 

Pansy opened her mouth, ready to bid him adieu and get away from the temptation to invite him back to her flat when he offered her his elbow. “I’d like to see you home safe, if that’s alright.”

He really was a wonder. She couldn’t remember the last time a one night stand had even offered such a thing.

“No, thank you,” was on the tip of her tongue, but something stopped her, a quiet feeling that had her thinking, “Why not?”

And so instead of refusing, she nodded and let him escort her home, utterly baffled by him once again when all he did was lift her hand to kiss her knuckles and say goodnight, vanishing with a twist and a _crack,_ and a promise that she’d hear from him.

Heading inside, she let the door shut behind her and leaned back against it, one hand resting on her throat in an attempt to calm her fluttering pulse, a ridiculous smile she simply couldn’t fight turning up the corners of her mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you heaps for taking the time to read my silly words. I appreciate you all so much!
> 
> I post fanart and manips and all sorts of things on tumblr if you wanna come hang <3 @nuclearnik


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